Your eyes sang the song of loss
And I recognized the chorus

The world around me has always been gray
The buildings, the trees, the skies, and the people
Have always been duller than the blade
I used to cut myself with

Now I see the world in bright colors
Because you came in and painted it all
From corner to corner to corner to corner
And you filled in every detail
And every spot that was bleak

Darling, when the colors in your life fade,
Remember that I will always be there
To bring back all of the lost vibrance
And add a lot more

mediocre and
faded
the average poem
no longer strikes chords
in the heart's harp
use extravagant vocabulary
weave your words tight
until they seem uncomfortable
the original meaning lost
between the claustrophobic corners
covered in lace and pretentious boasting
try but don't try so hard
that no one but the classic readers
would be able to understand
the words you've worked so hard to convey
do not force a poem out
or it will stick your fingers and
it will create a mess
similar to a teenage boy
it will be long and uncomfortable with itself
unknowing of how to adjust
into this thing that is supposed to be
mature now despite wanting to be simple
do not rush poetry
find quiet inspiration
in silent observations
of yourself, of nature
rushing poetry makes it fast
too many unfilled thoughts
racing around in one space
not meeting each other
despite being so close together
tell a story with imagery
with delicate words of morality
tell a story with flashbacks
with soft lips and with stained shirts
tell a story with love
make your poems with care